Bearers of Memory
by late-stranger
Summary: We gather many strange looks, a man and woman and an infant, all dressed in grey. But only when our quest is complete will I cast off the color of loss." Nymphadora Tonks Lupin has a mission. DH compliant except Tonks lives Oneshot.


Bearers of Memory

_**Bearers of Memory**_

"Are you ready?"

He didn't use my name, my colleague in our customary grey colored uniform. We did not use names- they were our business, and we only used them with clients. We were the Seekers, Bearers of Memory. That was our name for the division of the Order of the Phoenix that we worked in. Once I would have laughed at the solemnity of the title, but now this was my life. This was what I had to do to move on.

The War had ravaged the Wizarding world. It had tore families apart, both by taking sides and taking lives. We were the Seekers. We sought the names of anyone who had lost their life in the War. It was out duty. The goal was almost impossible- many had laughed at us, if they had any heart to laugh, but I have seen War. I know that maybe, just maybe, people would learn this time, that they would keep their promises to remember, and not lose the names of the heroes and casualties like they did in every other war in history. But I also knew that the chances were so slim that we had to do something. People were already forgetting, encouraged by the Ministry, who were embarrassed by their performance in the War. They wanted to move on, and forget those brave ones who gave their lives in the fight. They would repeat history's mistakes again and again and again. We sought the names of those fallen, to preserve forever, like my husband.

I nodded to my friend and colleague, and slung my infant son over my shoulder. Always in grey. We wore it to signify our mission, our mission to find the lost. Sometimes I worried about him, my little boy, my husband's son, always surrounded by one color, but it is necessary. If I do not do this, I could not move on, and if I could not move on then I could not be a good mother, like he deserved. I needed to be the best I could for him, and this was what I needed to do.

We Apparated to the next house on the list – a wizard family, the Jones'. They had lost a son, our sources said. We walked the last block. Muggles gave us funny looks, a young man and a young woman with an infant, all dressed in grey. Reaching the front door, he knocked and waited. A woman answered the door. She saw our grey clothing and shrieked

"You! They said you would come for us! Well, we ain't coming! You can't force us!"

"Ma'am," I tried, "we aren't going to take you or your family anywhere. We won't do any harm. We just want your son's name – the boy you lost to the Death Eaters."

Mrs. Jones burst into tears. "They said it'd be like this! You try to comfort, but just open up wounds!"

"Ma'am, we are the Bearers of Memory. Our job is to collect names, so they can be remembered. Your pain is my pain, Mrs. Jones. I lost my husband. He," I indicated my colleague, "lost his parents in the First war, and any real family he had left in the Second, save a few. We only want to honor your boy for the hero he was."

"I- I supposed you can come in." she cried, ushering us in. This was better than we usually received. Mostly, they kept screaming from the door. Sometimes we didn't even get a name. Eventually, though, someone who knew the person gave us what we wanted. "It's just – so, so _hard_. To remember, I mean. It was his first year out of school, and one day he just did not come home. We looked everywhere, and when we found him, it was horrible. There wasn't even a body recognizable as human. We had a tough time with the funeral. All of his Muggle friends wanted to know what had happened. We didn't know what to say. We just answered 'Murder'. The Death Eaters wanted him for their own – he was smart, our boy. He refused, as any decent kid would. They tortured him to death."

"He did right, standing up to the Death Eaters like that. He is a hero, Mrs. Jones. We want to honor him as one." My colleague often spoke words like these to grieving mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, daughters, and sons. He always spoke the truth, as well.

"Here," she choked out, giving us a scrap of paper, "there is his name- Ayden Ronald Jones. Thank you for caring. For remembering. You will be in my prayers."

"Thank you, Mrs. Jones. You've brought our mission that much closer to success. Now, we have to go. There always seem to be more names. Thank you." My colleague gave a little nod, and we left, leaving no trace. One day we would, though. One day we would leave a mark so large that not one name would be left out, and only then could I abandon my grey attire. When my heart was at rest. 

I am a Seeker. A Bearer of Memory. People have told me time and time again to move on, and be happy again. This is what I must do to move on. I have grey hair, now, and grey clothes, and only once I complete the nigh-impossible task in front of me will I move on.

I am Nymphadora Tonks Lupin, Bearer of Memory, and only when my quest is complete and my heart is at rest, will I discard the color of loss.


End file.
